


Once Upon A Dream

by Death_by_Gallavich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_by_Gallavich/pseuds/Death_by_Gallavich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But the higher Ian got, the more he realized he wanted to act on those feelings, especially since he had a growing suspicion that Mickey might actually like him back. And if it didn’t work out, he could just blame it on the weed. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnotherGallavichLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGallavichLove/gifts).



> Hunter prompted: Could you please write one where Ian and Mickey are roommates (best friends with secret crushes on each other kind of thing) and then one night they fuck, but fall asleep in their own beds, and when Ian wakes up, he assumes it was a dream so he tries to forget about it. Mickey gets pissed and hurt because Ian doesn’t bring it up the next day.
> 
> This is a long time coming but also my longest fic ever, so I hope you like it! Title from the Sleeping Beauty song of the same name because I could not think of anything original. Also this is unbetaed, as are all my fics, so sorry if there's any mistakes!

It was unfair, really.

Mickey had never meant to become best friends with Ian. Hell, he hadn’t even meant to become _friends_ with Ian. It was all Mandy’s fault. She and Mickey had been living in an apartment in the North Side when she decided to move in with a couple of girls from the diner she worked at. Rent was too expensive for Mickey alone, so he’d let her put an ad for a roommate up on Craigslist. And low and behold, Ian Gallagher came along. They bonded quickly after Ian had moved in, both of them being gay from the South Side. Two years later, here they are, best friends who tell each other everything, from guilty pleasures to sex horror stories. Well, _almost_ everything. See, Mickey has a humongous crush on Ian, and would be mortified if Ian found out. They’re best friends, and he doesn’t wanna ruin that over some stupid, schoolboy feelings. What he doesn’t know, is that Ian feels the exact same way.

***

It was unfair, really.

Mickey Milkovich and his stupid perfect hair, stupid toned arms, stupid soft tummy that was comfier than any pillow could hope to be, and his stupid supple ass that should really be named the 8th Wonder of the World. Ian wishes he had never met him (except he didn’t). Although Mickey was also gay, he’d made it clear to Ian on many occasions that dating wasn’t his thing. Ian however, had had several boyfriends throughout the two years he lived with Mickey, all of them ending over one asinine reason or another, leaving Mickey to help a seemingly perpetually heartbroken Ian back on his feet. After being dumped by his most recent boyfriend, Ian had decided to swear off relationships and just have sex with whoever he wanted, since it seemed to work for Mickey. He should’ve known better, that it wouldn’t pan out. Being South Side, a Gallagher, and gay, was like a triple dog dare of bad luck just waiting to happen.

***

Mickey had just gotten off work when his phone buzzed with a text from Ian. Though bartending wasn’t the most exciting job, it paid well enough that Mickey didn’t have to keep up with any not-so-legal extra-curricular activities.

[From: Gallagher]

_Ordered Chinese and stole some of Lip’s weed. Bring home beer? :)_

[To: Gallagher]

_Yea ok. Better be the good shit tho_

[From: Gallagher]

_It is, ur the best! :) <3<3_

Mickey bit back a smile as he typed out a reply. Ian had obviously started smoking without him, if his use of emojis was proof enough. Mickey had lost count of how many times he’d told Ian to quit it will all the emojis, to no avail (though he secretly loved it). Just add it to the ever growing list of reasons he was crushing on Ian, then set it on fire because that’s all it will ever be: a crush. Or so he thought.

***

[From: Mick ^.^]

_Yea I kno & enough with the emoji shit Gallagher. Be home in 20_

Ian grinned, taking another drag from the joint and settling further into the couch. Nights like these were his favorite. Relaxing with beer, food, the TV, and most importantly, Mickey. So what if he had the tiniest crush on his best friend. It’s not like you could blame him; Mickey had been there through everything: the bad break-ups, fights with his family, everything. So it was only natural that Ian had developed feelings for him in the process. He just knew better than to act on them. Mickey had been explicit about his no dating rule, that for the time being, he was content with one (sometimes three or four) night stands. But the higher Ian got, the more he realized he _wanted_ to act on those feelings, especially since he had a growing suspicion that Mickey might actually like him back. And if it didn’t work out, he could just blame it on the weed. Right?

***

A case of beer in hand, Mickey walked into the apartment, finding a pleasantly high Ian sprawled out on the couch, a freshly rolled joint in his hand and Chinese food spread out on the coffee table.

“Started the party without me, huh?” Mickey observed, nudging Ian over so he could sit down.

“Yup, you took too long,” Ian replied, sitting up and accepting a beer from Mickey. He handed the joint to Mickey before grabbing a container of food and digging in. “I got you Kung Po Chicken and Singapore Chow Mai Fun,” he said around a mouthful of noodles.

Mickey’s stomach grumbled in response. “Fuck yes, I’m starving.”

Mickey took a long drag before abandoning the joint in favor of his deliciously spicy meal. The two ate in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and the mild entertainment of some late-night comedy show. Once they were finished, they smoked some more until Ian was high enough to overcome his nerves and get on with his agenda for the night.

“Hey Mick, can I talk to you about something?”

Though Mickey was high, he was nowhere near the level Ian was, so he still had some wits about him. And he could just tell that this conversation was undoubtedly about a guy.

“C’mon man, I thought you joined my fucking-without-feelings club? What, he ordered you room service so now he’s the one? He old enough to be your dad or could he pass for a creepy cousin?” Mickey laughed.

“Fuck you, Mickey. Last I checked, you were my best friend, not my asshole of a brother!” Ian shouted, hurt evident in his eyes. He stormed off and into his bedroom, leaving a guilt-ridden Mickey in the living room.

Mickey sighed and began clearing away the food, putting leftovers in the fridge and empty containers in the trash along with several beer bottles, while waiting for Ian to cool off a bit. He knew it had been a low blow. The whole reason Ian had even started venting to Mickey about relationship problems is because Lip was always an ass about it, and Mickey felt like shit for being the same way, especially about Ian’s previous relationships. Ian definitely didn’t have the best judgement when it came to men, seeming to always go for old geezers who got their rocks off by manipulating guys less than half their age. Mickey hated that, and definitely didn’t want him doing it again. So, once he’d finished cleaning up, he grabbed the two remaining beers along with the rest of the pie Mandy had dropped off the night before and headed into Ian’s room.

“Peace offering?” Mickey asked sheepishly, setting the beer and pie on the nightstand and sitting at the foot of the bed.

Ian ignored him, rolling onto his other side, his back now facing Mickey. Mickey rubbed a hand over his face before toeing off his shoes and climbing over Ian to the other side of the bed. Now face-to-face with his best friend, he could see that Ian had been crying, worsening the guilt he already felt for upsetting him in the first place.

“Look, Ian, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t a said that, I know Lip gives you enough crap about it anyways.”

Ian just sniffed, and locked eyes with Mickey, silently cueing him to continue.

“I was being an ass, which isn’t cool especially since you’re the best best friend ever for ordering my favorite food for dinner,” Mickey added, earning a small smile from Ian. “So c’mon, tell about this guy. I shoulda known you wouldn’t last in my club, you’re too much of a hopeless romantic,” he teased.

“I am not a hopeless romantic,” Ian retorted, playfully shoving Mickey’s shoulder. Unsure of how to actually proceed with his plan now, Ian took a deep breath before vaguely explaining his situation.

“Fine. So, there’s this guy. Obviously. And for the record, we haven’t fucked, so I guess I never joined your stupid club in the first place.”

“Hey my club is not stupid!” Mickey exclaimed, feigning a look of disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, so I really like this guy. We’ve been friends for a while now, and have a lot in common. But, he doesn’t do relationships.

“Smart guy,” Mickey muttered.

Annoyed, Ian broke off a piece of pie and shoved it into Mickey’s mouth, earning him a scowl but effectively shutting Mickey up. “As I was saying, he doesn’t do relationships but lately I’ve been starting to think that he might have feelings for me too. But I don’t know how to go about asking him about it. I don’t wanna ruin our friendship, but I also don’t wanna just be friends anymore.”

Mickey gazed at Ian, who was lost in thought, having rolled onto his back and now absent-mindedly looking at the ceiling. Which was good, because he didn’t see the disappointment that was no doubt all over Mickey’s face. Of course Ian liked someone else. It was probably one of the guys in his GED class that he hung out with all the time. Mickey mentally cursed himself for even thinking that Ian would just randomly blurt out his secret feelings for him. But, as fate would have it, those curses happened to be not so mental.

“What did you just say?”

“Huh, what?” a startled Mickey replied, unaware Ian had broken from his trance-like state.

Ian, now equal parts intrigued and confused, sat up, looking down at Mickey who was doing his best to avoid eye contact. “No, you definitely said something. Something that sounded a lot like you thinking I was gonna blurt out my secret feelings for you.”

Mickey could feel the panic bubbling in his chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He quickly got up from the bed, about to make up some lame excuse about being tired when Ian continued.

“Which is funny, because if you were paying attention, you’d realize I just did.”

Mickey froze. He turned around to see Ian sitting crisscross on the bed, eyes cast down as he fiddled with the edge of a pillowcase.

Ian, too nervous to look up, took a few deep breaths before biting the bullet and spilling the beans.

“I mean, I’ve liked you for ages, and a tiny part of me thought you might like me too…” he trailed off, the hope evident in his voice. Ian finally glanced upwards just in time to see Mickey leaning down to press their lips together. His brain went haywire, wondering when Mickey had walked back over to the bed and reveling in the feeling of Mickey’s lips against his. But when Mickey slipped his tongue into Ian’s mouth, all Ian could think about was why they hadn’t been doing this all along.

Mickey pressed forward, deepening the kiss and forcing Ian onto his back. He latched onto Ian’s upper lip, enjoying the way Ian sucked and nipped at his bottom one. He pulled back slightly, mouthing down Ian’s jaw and biting gently on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Ian groaned, and Mickey could feel himself grow harder at the sound.

“Fuck. Off, off,” Mickey panted, tugging at Ian’s shirt. Ian complied, sitting up, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. He did the same to Mickey’s, before sealing their lips back together, kissing him fervently. They kept at it for several minutes, the room quiet save for their harsh breathing and the wet smack of their lips. Mickey eventually detached himself from Ian, scrambling off the bed to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. Ian stared at him hungrily, eyes roaming all over Mickey’s body.

“What the fuck are you starin’ at?” Mickey barked, growing self-conscious under Ian’s almost predatory gaze. Ian didn’t reply, just scooted to the edge of the bed, grabbing Mickey’s hips and pulling him forward. He trailed his tongue over a nipple, sucking and biting it, eliciting the most delightful noises out of Mickey. He did the same to the other, then pressed open-mouthed kisses down Mickey’s abdomen as he sunk to his knees. Ian looked up, locking eyes with Mickey and taking a hold of his leaking cock, giving it a few quick strokes before closing his mouth around it.

Mickey’s legs felt like Jell-O. He closed his eyes, overcome with pleasure as Ian’s wet, hot mouth made its way up and down his shaft. Ian’s hand left his hips in favor of squeezing his ass, making Mickey moan and Ian hum around his dick. When he felt his orgasm building, Mickey tugged at Ian’s hair, pulling him back to his feet and attacking his mouth.

“Fuck, Mickey. I want…I need you,” Ian panted out. He felt Mickey pushing down his sweats, and he kicked them the rest of the way off, relishing in the feeling of their now bare cocks rubbing against each other. Mickey let out a strangled moan, causing Ian to lose all his resolve. He pushed Mickey onto the bed, who immediately got on all fours, eagerly presenting his ass to Ian.

“Jesus, Mick,” Ian muttered, kneading Mickey’s ass with both hands. He leaned over, trailing kisses down Mickey’s spine, pausing when he got down to his ass. Using his hands to spread both cheeks, he licked across Mickey’s puckered hole, loving the whimpers falling from his mouth. Ian continued licking and sucking at Mickey’s rim, tongue-fucking him until he was a sobbing mess.

“Ian, please, fuck!” Mickey begged. He was exploding. Not only was this the most amazing foreplay he’d ever had (shit they weren’t even _fucking_ yet), but knowing that Ian was the one doing it to him made it all the better. It was odd that Mickey realized his feelings for Ian were much more than some schoolboy crush when said best friend’s tongue was up his ass, but he guessed it was a good a place as any. Finally, he felt Ian’s slicked up fingers circling him before one slowly slid in. Mickey fucked himself back on the finger, letting out a string of breathy grunts as Ian steadily added a second finger, a little more lube, and then a third. He nearly whined when Ian’s fingers left him, but he then heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper and sighed in relief. He felt Ian’s hands on his hips, but before he could tell him to get the show on the road, Mickey was being flipped onto his back with his knees pushed to his chest. His cock grew even harder—if possible—from being manhandled, and when Ian finally began pressing into Mickey, his brain short-circuited altogether.

It took all of Ian’s strength not to come once he was balls-deep inside Mickey. He stayed still, knowing full well Mickey was adjusted by now, but he definitely wasn’t.

“So fucking tight, fuck,” Ian groaned, finally gathering himself enough to start slowly thrusting. As Mickey relaxed beneath him, Ian picked up the pace, releasing Mickey’s legs and planting his forearms on either side of his forehead. Mickey arched up into him, slotting their mouths together. They weren’t so much kissing as panting into each other’s mouth, but neither boy seemed to care, too caught up in the feel of their bodies sliding together. On a particularly hard thrust, Mickey cried out, and Ian knew he’d found the right spot. He pounded relentlessly into Mickey, hitting his prostate every time. Though his whole body felt like a limp noodle, Mickey managed enough strength to reach down and stroke his cock, and a few minutes later he was coming hot spurts in between them.

Ian was flying. He was so high, on adrenaline, on Lip’s weed, on Mickey. Once Mickey came, Ian quickened his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. It wasn’t hard, with the way Mickey was clenching around him and his face an expression of pure ecstasy: eyes closed, mouth hanging open; he looked fucking _magnificent_. All it took was Mickey opening his eyes and gasping, “Ian,” for Ian to come. He stilled, his body shuddering with pleasure.

After a few deep breaths, Ian pulled out, tossing the condom somewhere on the floor and collapsing next to Mickey, who was completely wrecked.

“Holy fuck,” Ian muttered, finding the remnants of a joint in the ashtray next to his bed and lighting it up, offering it to Mickey after taking a couple of drags.

“Nah, man, I can’t. It’s already…fuck it’s already five and I gotta open tomorrow. I’m gonna get like 3 or 4 hours at the most, I should go to sleep,” Mickey said, yawning as he found his boxers and put them back on.

Ian started to feel pretty shitty and used—even while high— until Mickey bent back down and kissed him, lingering just a few moments before giving him a small smile and going to his room. Thirty minutes later, Ian came down from his high enough to fall asleep, a dopey grin on his face as he dreamed of Mickey’s lips against his and the sex that he was sure would happen again very soon.

***

Despite how much of an asshole Lip was, he always came through when it came to weed. Ian didn’t know where he got, just that it was some grade A, primo shit. Which is why he woke up with a raging boner after having the most vivid dream of fucking Mickey. Ian groaned, reaching over to the nightstand for something to drink and finding a half-empty beer he didn’t remember leaving there. He grabbed his phone and saw that it was nearly five, which meant Mickey was coming home soon. He rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, noticing a note from Mickey on the fridge.

_Hey, I’ll be home around 5:30, gonna grab dinner from that Italian place you like._

_I think we should talk._

Ian nearly shit himself. What could Mickey possibly want to talk about? Ian racked his brain, trying to remember what happened the night before. Oh God, did he actually blurt out his feelings for Mickey? Is that why he had that crazy weed-induced sex dream? Ian was mortified. The last thing he wanted to do was make things weird between him and his best friend, yet there he was last night, stoned and drunkenly telling Mickey that he liked him. At least he had something to blame it on. He could tell Mickey he just wasn’t thinking clearly, and projecting feelings he had for another guy onto him. Yeah, that would work, right?

***

Mickey was freaking the fuck out. He practically had been since he left Ian’s room to go to sleep. It wasn’t really so that he wouldn’t wake Ian up the next morning, it was mainly because he had just had sex with his best friend and _holy fuck_ —he had sex with his best friend. Ian Gallagher, the oversized, ginger puppy who had somehow integrated his way into Mickey’s life who also happened to be gay and hotter than the sun and apparently had feelings for Mickey. Feelings that were very much reciprocated. So why was Mickey having a mid-life crisis twenty years too soon? He liked Ian, and Ian liked him if last night was any indicator. They were just going to talk about it to make sure this was what they both wanted. And maybe Mickey’s little meltdown was over the possibility that this _wasn’t_ what Ian wanted, that it was just a drunk, horny mistake.

His fears grew as he drove home with dinner in tow, so much so that by the time he reached the block of their apartment he was a sweaty ball of anxiety. Mickey willed himself to calm down, gathering up the food and heading inside. The elevator ride seemed to take hours, which really didn’t help Mickey. In fact, he even wished he’d get stuck in there just so he wouldn’t have to face Ian and his possible rejection. Taking a deep breath, he exited the elevator once it had finally reached his floor and shuffled down the hall.

Once inside the apartment, Mickey relaxed a bit, comforted by his surroundings. Ian was in the shower, so he had a few moments to compose himself. He eventually decided he had nothing to worry about, that no matter what happened, Ian was his best friend and nothing would change that. Nothing, except for rejection and then being forced to face Ian every day and suppress his feelings and the knowledge that Ian was in fact the best lay of his entire life and…fuck. Ian really needed to get out of the shower before Mickey spontaneously combusted.

Wishes granted, a couple minutes later Ian sauntered into the living room where Mickey was spreading out their dinner.

“Hey man, you just wake up?”

“Uh not too long ago, yeah,” Ian replied, the air already awkward and full of tension between them. “Fucking weed I guess, primo shit. Gave me some crazy ass dreams,” he chuckled weakly, dreading having to have this conversation at all.

“Right, the weed. So you, uh, don’t remember anything about last night?” Mickey gulped, sensing this wasn’t going to go the way he wanted it to.

Ian sat down on the couch, grabbing a container of mozzarella sticks to avoid making eye contact with Mickey. “Um, not really? It’s pretty hazy to be honest. I think I might’ve said some things though…”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah you definitely said some fucking things Gallagher.”

“Look I’m sorry Mick I didn’t mean it—,”

“What?” Mickey asked incredulously, though Ian was still looking down, so he missed the flash of disappointment and hurt on Mickey’s face.

“I was really high and little tipsy so whatever I said last night about like being in love with you or whatever I didn’t mean it, I was just like projecting my feelings or whatever,” Ian kept on, still too afraid to look at his best friend.

“Ian what the fuck!” Mickey yelled, giving Ian no choice but to look at him now that he was practically fuming.

Ian, startled, just stared back at Mickey, not knowing where the sudden bout of anger came from. “What, I said I was sorry Mickey Jesus! I know you don’t like me like that so I’m sorry if I freaked you out but I didn’t mean it I promise!”

“Jesus fucking Christ that’s the problem Gallagher! We fucking had sex last night!”

“We _what_?!”

“Sex. You. Me. Fucking. On your fucking bed. After I came home yesterday you were whining about liking some mystery guy you were friends with spewing all this ‘ _I like him but he doesn’t do relationships but I can’t just be friends with him anymore’_ bullshit and _my_ dumbass somehow managed to let you know that I do have feelings for you which at the time was apparently a good thing since you said your fucking mystery guy was me! So I kissed you. And we fucked. But I guess it wasn’t that good for you since you were so keen to forget it!”

And with that, Mickey stormed off into his room, leaving a flabbergasted Ian on the couch wondering what the fuck just happened.

***

[To: Mandy <3]

_Mands I need help…I fucked up._

_Big time :/_

[From: Mandy <3]

_I get off in 10. I’ll call you_

Ian replied with an ‘ _okay…_ ’ and a string of broken heart emojis. He couldn’t believe that Mickey Milkovich, his best friend whom he was majorly crushing on (let’s face it, more like helplessly in love with) finally made it known that he liked Ian back and what did Ian do? Played off both their confessions and chalked them up to a drug influenced dream. Way to fucking go, Ian. He was about to give up waiting on Mandy and just talk to Mickey when he heard ‘I hate everything about you’ start blaring from Mickey’s bedroom and he knew he was screwed.

“Fuuuuuck my life,” Ian groaned. Biting the bullet, he decided to knock on Mickey’s door anyway, figuring Mandy wouldn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. “Mickey, will you please come out, I’m sorry.” Ian winced as Mickey turned off the music and flung open his door, seeming to have already smoked his way through a pack of cigarettes in the mere ten minutes he’d been in his room.

“Sorry for what? Confessing your sappy ass feelings or fucking me?”

There was a long pause, Mickey glaring at Ian and Ian working up the nerve to be honest.

“For forgetting,” Ian said softly.

“Fuck you, Gallagher,” Mickey spat, clenching his jaw and refusing to meet Ian’s eyes.

Ian pressed his luck and took a step closer to Mickey. “I thought it was a dream, Mick. You think if I remembered I would’ve told you I didn’t mean it?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Why would you? Mean it.”

“Because I’ve liked you for ages Mick. I mean practically since I met you but for a year at least. You’re my best friend. You put up with all my shit—yes I know I have a lot of shit don’t look at me like that I’m trying to be serious here.”

Mickey gave a slight grin and arched an eyebrow, signaling Ian to continue.

“You’ve been there through all the shitty break-ups, the equally shitty hangovers that always followed; you’ve been there through everything, Mick. How could I not be the tiniest bit in love with you?”

“Woah, hold the fuck up Gallagher who said anything about love?”

“Please, cut the shit Mickey. Five minutes ago you were blaring the ultimate break-up song, you definitely love me too. But don’t worry, I won’t tell Mandy,” Ian teased. “And stop fucking calling me Gallagher, damn it! You had no problem moaning _‘Ian’_ last night.”

Mickey’s eyes grew wide. “So you _do_ remember you piece of shit!”

“I told you I thought it was a dream! A very fucking vivid one but a dream. I remember everything; kissing, fucking, that noise you made when I—,”

“Yeah, we get it. You remember. Fuck,” Mickey muttered, scratching the back of his head as a blush creeped up his neck. “So what the fuck do we do now?”

Ian took a final step towards Mickey, so close it would only take the slightest tilt of his head for their lips to meet. “Well, since I really like you, and it’s been made abundantly clear that you really like me too,” Ian grinned, “I was hoping we could maybe do the whole dating thing, even though I know it’s not your style.” Ian rested his hands on Mickey’s hips, his grin growing wider as Mickey relaxed into the touch, sliding his hands up Ian’s arms before clasping them behind his neck.

“Shut the fuck up it’s not my style,” Mickey mumbled before leaning forward and capturing Ian’s lips between his own.

***

Twenty minutes later, both boys clad only in boxers sat on their couch eating cold Italian food and sporting matching grins. Just as they were about to share a post-coital cigarette, some began pounding at their door. Ian and Mickey looked at each other, throwing out a fist for rock, paper, scissors. Ian lost, groaning as he shuffled to the door.

“What the fuck, Ian!” Mandy exclaimed, smacking him in the chest before shoving past him into the apartment.

“Uh, can I help you Mandy?”

“You texted me asshole! Remember, like thirty minutes ago whining about fucking something up?”

Ian froze like a deer caught in headlights and Mickey just gave him a knowing smirk.

“I, uh…” Ian sputtered before Mandy interrupted him.

“But judging your lack of clothes and obvious sex hair I’m assuming you fuckheads worked it out?”

This time it was Mickey’s turn to give Mandy frantic Bambi eyes.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh spare me, assface. You two have been pining over each other for years. Glad you finally did something about it,” Mandy grumbled around a mouthful of noodles from the plate of spaghetti she stole from Mickey.

“Whatever bitch don’t you have someone else to steal food from? Get the fuck out!” Mickey yelled.

“Fuck you didn’t you just get laid why are you so pissy? Bye douchebag. Bye Ian!”

Once Mandy left, Ian turned to face Mickey. “Well that went…well.”

Mickey just gave Ian a pointed glare and kept eating his lasagna.

Ian sighed. “C’mon it could’ve been worse! She has a key, she could’ve came in while we were still fucking. I’m surprised she even knocked this time. We should probably change the locks,” Ian rambled.

“Yeah okay you wanna chit-chat more or get on me?” Mickey said with a sly grin.

Ian just shook his head and tackled Mickey down onto the couch. He made a mental note to thank Lip for the weed later. Not only did it get you really fucking high, it apparently got you a boyfriend as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone please teach me how to properly end a fic.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Come find me on tumblr at [jollymickeymilkovich](http://jollymickeymilkovich.tumblr.com/).


End file.
